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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309374">The Sweeter Things in Life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayla221bee/pseuds/Ayla221bee'>Ayla221bee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Coffee Shops, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:27:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309374</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayla221bee/pseuds/Ayla221bee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>'After the day that he had been through in parliament and having to deal with goldfish,  Mycroft thought that he deserved a coffee and a large slice of cake.'  Partly inspired by the prompt from JustMystradeThoughts 'A cozy, late drinking, sweater-wearing Mycroft.'</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes &amp; Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>JustMystradeThoughts Plot Bunny Adoptions</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Sweeter Things in Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest/gifts">sandwastesinthevoidofmychest</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based off sandwastesinthevoidofmychest's  'Partial to Pumpkin Spice,'  a much more wonderful fic than this and please read it! https://archiveofourown.org/works/15946682</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After the day that he had been through in parliament and having to deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>goldfish</span>
  </em>
  <span>,  Mycroft thought that he deserved a coffee and a large slice of cake.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It had been an awful day and  Mycroft felt that he did deserve a slice of cake and that it was rather well earned.  He had been woken up in the early hours of the morning for an emergency meeting with America over a matter that could have been resolved in a matter of minutes.  He had stepped in a puddle and gotten his favourite shoes wet. He had to deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>goldfish </span>
  </em>
  <span>all morning and deal with the Prime Minister over the phone.  To add insult to injury,  someone had walked into him and his favourite and his very expensive tie had been stained with coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As far as Mycroft was concerned, a  coffee and a  slice of cake seemed to be the only way to remedy the disaster of a day that he had.  The thought of escaping parliament even for a short amount of time for a slice of cake was the motivational force that helped Mycroft endure the rest of his disastrous morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft inspected the menu with his nose wrinkled in concentration as he tried to select a drink with utmost careful consideration as if was dealing with a delicate political matter.  He had never been much of a coffee drinker and on the occasion when he did, Anthea had ordered for him and brought the drink of his desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fancy trying the pumpkin spice latte today?” the barista asked, taking pity on Mycroft as he stared at the drinks board.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft wrinkled his nose in response, he had never heard anything as ridiculous as pumpkin-flavoured coffee, let alone spiced.  “What on earth is a pumpkin spiced coffee?” he asked, almost as if the barista had gone rather mad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They are very popular,” the barista said. “Why don’t you get one yourself instead of me telling you about it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft thought carefully for a moment. It could not be much worse than the poor excuse of coffee that they were serving in parliament and he had not experimented with any new flavours or foods recently. “When in Rome,” he said and gave his name to the barista. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft tried his best not to frown when the barista had written  ‘</span>
  <b>
    <em>Mike :)’</em>
  </b>
  <span> on his take away cup.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft had quickly become fond of pumpkin spice lattes, he had not cared much for a seasonal beverage before, but pumpkin spice had become his exception. It did appeal to his disappointingly large sweet tooth that he often tried to pretend that it did not exist with little success. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Mycroft never expected that he would have liked being in a chain coffee shop as much as he did.  It was often bustling when he arrived and he liked to sit in his favourite armchair in the shop that was closest to the window and it allowed him to people watch. He often liked to made deductions about people based on the drinks that they had ordered, it had become a wonderful game to clear his head after being in parliament.  He often brought his favourite novels with him and could easily spend several hours reading. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He often saw Gregory Lestrade in the Starbucks that he frequented.  He had not been able to talk to him, nerves often got the better of him when it came to the man.  He had thought about perhaps deliberately ordering another drink when he saw Gregory by the door and then they would chat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Mycroft had thought about doing that many times but had been unable to summon the courage to do so. He knew that he would make an absolute fool of himself when it came to Gregory, he hardly knew what he would say to him even if he could get his tongue untied.  He could hardly talk to Gregory without his ears turning pink at times or even get a word out especially when Gregory said something in particular to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew that he would lose any respect from the other man if he was found in a Starbucks, he had taken  Gregory out for coffee before to only the best establishments and clubs in London and they had expresso in his favourite Italian cafes.  He had wrinkled his nose in disgust when Gregory had suggested that they should go to a Starbucks in the past. He had protested and refused to go, claiming that the coffee from a chain brand was not good and that he wanted to go to an establishment where he knew what the drinks were. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew that his reputation would be in tatters and unable to recover if Gregory had seen in a Starbucks or knew about his love for pumpkin spice. He knew that he would have to potentially go into a self-imposed exile for the rest of his days if that information had slipped out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On one for rare days off on a drizzly afternoon, Mycroft had found himself in Starbucks with one of his favourite books and his pumpkin spice latte.  His visits to the coffee shop had become a ritual managed to slot into his life comfortably.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He visited once a week and had become his favourite way to unwind. He rather liked how no one knew who he was in and there was little risk of him being bothered. He could pretend to be somewhat ordinary for an hour or so.  It was the main reason why he detested getting coffee when he was at parliament,  the </span>
  <em>
    <span>goldfish </span>
  </em>
  <span>could never leave him alone, constantly bothering him or they needed help after getting themselves in stupid situations.  He disliked having to be social on those occasions and he hated being dragged away from his books than anything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>There was little risk of that happening when he went out to get coffee.  He visited so often that the staff knew his orders and were pleasant enough to them. He would occasionally nod in the direction of a few regular customers who seemed to participate in the same ritual as he did.  He could be left alone with his coffee and his book and Mycroft could not be happier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To reward himself for finishing off the chapter of his novel, Mycroft allowed himself to look out of the window to do some people watching.  It was difficult to deduce the occupation of the people who walked past the window, huddled under their umbrellas or their clothes hidden by their coats.  Mycroft did appreciate the challenge, he had worried that his brain was not as sharp as he approached middle age. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, Mycroft caught the glimpse of a familiar jacket.  A black trench coat and a glimpse of silver hair.  He felt a surge that ran through him, almost hopeful.  He had always had that feeling when he saw the detective inspector even if it always turned into a feeling of nerves that settled in his stomach and his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pretended to read his book but spent more time watching Gregory from the top of his book. His eyes kept drifting to Gregory despite his best efforts to keep them on the page. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart gave a flutter when he saw Gregory walk to the coffee shop. The feeling turned into a sense of impending doom once the detective inspector seemed to have noticed him, his eyes rested on him for a moment despite Mycroft’s best efforts to hide behind his book. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite his best efforts, Gregory noticed him and approached his table once he had ordered his drink, a grin on his face.  Mycroft enthusiastically invited him to sit at the table with as much dignity as possible. He scolded himself when he struggled to get a coherent sentence out and had to gesture to the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg seemed to have understood what he was trying to communicate and sat down at the table with his take away cup that said ‘</span>
  <b>
    <em>Craig PSL ;)’ </em>
  </b>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did not expect to see you here of all the places in London,”  Gregory said with a grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft fiddled with the sleeve on his jumper and tried to think of the perfect thing to say. It was almost impossible to get a sentence out, he suddenly wished that he was not so awkward when it came to Lestrade.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was wanting to get a coffee,”  Mycroft managed to utter out, his eyes glued to the side of Lestrade’s take away cup.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought that you would be at some posh place for a coffee,” Greg said with a raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft tried to think of the most perfect thing to say but struggled to do so.  “You are drinking pumpkin spice,” he said, somewhat stunted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know that it is a bit daft,” Greg chuckled to himself and fiddled with the sleeve of his takeaway cup. “Sally brought one of these to the office one time and I’ve been drinking them ever since.  I’ve always had a taste for the sweeter things in life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft nervously tried to pat down his hair and tried to remove the imaginary wrinkles from his jumper. “I would not think that a man like yourself would be fond of pumpkin spice, Gregory,” he managed to utter out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I never thought that I would see you in a Starbucks,” Greg replied with a raised eyebrow. “I am not sure what I am more surprised about, you in a Starbucks or you not wearing a three-piece suit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do hope that it is not an unpleasant surprise,” Mycroft said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, he made little attempt to hide the smile on his face. “I think that it would be impossible not to be thrilled when it comes to seeing you,” he said. “I do think that I really like the sight of you in a jumper, a rare day off ?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft nodded and his ears turned pink. “I thought that I would spend my afternoon here. I do like to read and get a coffee in this particular establishment… I’m partial to pumpkin spice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are full of surprises,”  Greg smiled. “I would have never thought that you would care for something like that. You are really a man of mystery, there will be so much that I will need to find out more about you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft was not sure where the sudden surge of confidence came from and he surprised himself with his uncharacteristic boldness. “I was wondering if you would like to get a coffee?” Mycroft managed to utter out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Greg raised an eyebrow. “I’ve already got coffee.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft took in a deep breath and mustered up all the courage he had. “I was wondering if you would like to get a coffee…” he said, suddenly wishing that he was braver. “ I thought that we could have a coffee together...so you could find out information about me.  I am not just partial to pumpkin spice, Gregory.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wished that he knew what to say, the words seemed to escape him. “...I am rather fond of you,” Mycroft said in a moment of bravery, surprised with the words had come out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A smile crept upon Gregory’s face, a contagious grin that Mycroft could not help but return. “You are a man of surprises today,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do hope that it is not an unpleasant surprise,” Mycroft said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg shook his head and reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I would love to have a coffee with you,” he beamed. “I’m rather partial to you as well, Mycroft.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They ended up staying until closing time, chatting away as if the world would end if they simply stopped.  After they shared dinner together the next evening, Mycroft invited Gregory to his flat for coffee after a primary wonderful kiss by his front door that he shared with Greg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next morning, as Greg brought a cup of coffee to him in bed, Mycroft congratulated himself for his wonderful decision for inviting Greg around for a coffee. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for the comments and kudos.  It's not my best fic but I was needing to write some fluff to get me out of a writing slump.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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